Archive for the ‘Memorial’ Category

Many people have recommended a blog to me, about Audrey Caroline, in recent days, and I’ve been unable to click the links. I just couldn’t. I’m too raw, and I didn’t care about anyone else’s pain, my own was too fresh for me to think about others’.

Then Ruthann posted the lyrics to Audrey’s song…and I started bawling when I read them. I had to go to YouTube and do a search, but couldn’t find the right song. So I googled the first stanza and found the song, and Audrey’s story, that way. Both touched me so much, I had to email Audrey’s mother from her blog, to thank her for the gift I received from their song and story Saturday night.

Watching the video of their beautiful family…I wish I’d been strong enough to let the kids enjoy Ruby Mae, even in death. I wish I’d been strong enough to ask to see her the next day, but I couldn’t bear the thought of holding her and her being cold and still. Now…oh the regrets I have. I can’t change the past…I’m healing but its so hard at times, ya know?

Anyway, the video is beautiful…thank you Ruthann, for bringing the lyrics to my attention and causing me to search out what so many people in their kindness and compassion tried to get me to see earlier.

There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?People say that I am brave but I’m not
Truth is I’m barely hanging on
But there’s a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this

So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One Who’s chosen me
To carry you

Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says…

I’ve shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?

I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And I will praise the One Who’s chosen Me
To carry you

This was Uncle Kernis’ last request…he really wanted his message to get out. He died on April 18, 2008 at the age of 60. He was larger than life all my life, and to see him knocked down by smoking and asbestosis was just hard to bear. He lived life to its fullest, and would literally take food out of his own mouth to feed anyone who needed it. Some of my cousins put their cigarettes in his caskets as promises to him (I know who you are and I AM going to hound you!!!)

As we buried our uncle today, it was a difficult day for us all. And yet, it was a beautiful day as well. The sun was shining, and it was a hot 84 degrees. A couple of Uncle Kernis’ poems were read (I’ll post them later in the week) and some moving words were said. I didn’t cry at Mamaw’s funeral…I didn’t cry at my stepdads’ funerals…but I broke down at Uncle Kernis’ casket this morning. I don’t know what came over me. Well, I do, too. You see, my uncle wasn’t a big man. In stature, that is. He was trim and not what you’d call tall, but to us kids, he was larger than life. Looking at him lying in that casket, it came over me how small he looked…smaller than he ever looked in life, and I just lost it like I’ve never lost it at a funeral before, and I stood there crying my eyes out. My aunt came up and held me, and that helped me a lot. I was trying to be so strong because I didn’t want to strain anyone…my cousins and aunt were trying to comfort everyone and you could see how much they themselves are hurting.

We got to the cemetery and I noticed two bucket trucks with the buckets raised to form an arch, and I thought “What in the world are they doing?” As we got closer I saw the Mississippi Power workers lined up with their hard hats under their arms standing at attention, and it hit me. He worked for them for…33 years or something like that I believe, and I thought “How cool!” Until I passed under the arch, and I started bawling again. Two of my cousins were behind our van on their Harleys, and as I got out to talk to them, I realized they were crying too. There wasn’t a dry eye in the procession as it turned out. It was very cool, and very powerful and touching at the same time.

Anyway, it was a nice funeral (if there can be such a thing) and we’re home now. I came home and slept four hours as I suspected I would, because I’m exhausted, and I have a migraine so I’m going back to bed now. Thanks everyone for your prayers and thoughts. I’ll have a post tomorrow with my uncle’s last request…its a graphic picture and its already been around the world, but its his wish to get the message out.

This morning my uncle passed away. He’d given up hope the last few days. I saw him last week, but hadn’t been able to get back up there since…I’d taken Jared up (the doctor assured us that even though he was sick, he wasn’t contagious) and he seemed happy to see Jared. In a way, its a relief that he doesn’t have to rely on the machine anymore. But…we’re all going to miss his sense of humor, his smiles…

I imagine him up in Heaven, picking at Mamaw, hugging his dad again, having his young, strong body back, and that sparkle back in those gorgeous blue eyes we all inherited from Mamaw. Maybe he’ll even get to meet our favorite Walt Disney

The strangest thing happened in the wee hours of the night (a few hours before Uncle Kernis passed away). Bekah woke up and wanted milk. As I was tucking her back into bed, we had this conversation:

And she snuggled down and went back to sleep. I didn’t think too much about it. After all, Uncle Kernis had a strong heart and was on a respirator. As long as the machine was working, he was ok. He’d been getting worse the past week though…they said it was as if he’d started just giving up. All along he’s been fighting, but once he started giving up, he went down fast. Somehow, Bekah knew before we did.